Scarred Perfection: For Christina Wehr, My Brave Mama

Scars don’t fit into the image the popular media works around the clock to portray.

Perfection sells, and scars mar perfection.

Fortunately, they can be hidden by products, clothing or carefully styled bangs, and they can even be removed by surgery.

But maybe scars are getting an unfair reputation.

Little boys treat them like badges of courage, showing them off to friends and regaling captive audiences with the tales of their scar’s adventurous origins. And since much wisdom can be gleaned from the way children see the world, maybe scars deserve a second evaluation.

After all, war heroes wear them with honor; a mother’s C-section scar represents the moment she brought her child into the world, and the scar from a surgery to remove cancer tells the story of healing and salvation from evil disease.

Scars are, in fact, the symbol of healing without forgetting.

Jesus himself chose to not only keep his scars from the cross, but to be identified by them.

After he came back from the dead, he appears to his disciples and tells them, “Look at my hands and my feet.

It is I myself!” (Luke 24:39).

When his most intimate friends cannot believe they are standing in his presence, Jesus uses his scars to convict them and remind them of his salvation and his promise to return.

Those are some powerful scars.

So maybe unscarred perfection should remain a media-created fantasy, because scars—the evidence of healing, salvation and new growth—tell a more fascinating story than smooth, untested skin could ever muster.

Scars say, “I was wounded, but I won the battle, and I’m still here to tell my tale.”